Wow.
Nearly 4 months. Wow..
I can officially say I suck. And I know I shouldn't make excuses but I have some pretty good ones! Not so much "excuses", more, legitimate reasons as to why I went MIA for so long. 2012 had begun to take a turn for the worse. Not quite the beginning I imagined, and certainly lacking all motivations and positivity I craved so badly.
First off I attended a funeral for a suicide victim. Even though I didn't know the person well, I knew their son - a very close and dear friend and ex-Housemate. Seeing the devastation it caused reminded me how short life is and how little I had done with mine since losing my job. It brought me back down to a slump, and the countless job applications and interviews I was going for weren't helping. I was getting so much positive feedback about myself "oh you're wonderful, you're great, we loved you! ... But we chose someone else".
I couldn't grasp what the issue was. Why would people string you along like that in such a serious situation? It was almost like being in a serious relationship and having your partner walk out on you out of nowhere, and tell you that it's "me not you".
I became frustrated and angry so quickly. My Housemate and I were coming to blows as she wanted to move to a bigger place and so did I - but we couldn't until I had financial security. We would argue over the smallest things, and she couldn't understand why I was so down. Spending day after day doing job applications at home does one's head in, that's why. I felt like I was on this continuous uphill rollercoaster, that would just drop off once I thought I'd reached the end. I'd have to start all over again to get to the top and it was killing me. The cat was excited to have me home, but that was only because I'd feed him when his mother told me not to. I thought I had finally found a job, I was so certain, they were so certain, they kept telling me... But when it came to D-Day, they went with someone who had less experience but was "more likely to not get bored". Great.
The same day, I went to visit my niece at the Parental's house. My aunt was there, and something about the mood was a little off. My mother put the tv on and said "something has happened... something awful". I thought she was joking. She wasn't.
My dear little friend who had grown up across the street from me had been killed.
She was only 18.
I couldn't believe it. This girl was going to change the world. She cared for every living thing there was and even sponsored animals instead of receiving birthday presents. She even sponsored the ugliest animal she could find, just because she was afraid nobody would.
She saw beauty in everything and everyone, and even though because I was a lot older and I'd moved out I hadn't seen her much in recent years, she always had a spot in my heart and was always a friend. I used to babysit her when I was young, and she was the first friend I made when I moved to the area. We spent many Saturdays playing house and family and dressing her younger brother up in girls clothes. She was a gem, had never done anything stupid in her life until she got into that car.
A friend had left a party upset so she had gone with them to make sure he was ok. The driver and the front passenger survived. She was killed instantly. And only a few short minutes from home. Soon enough after I heard, her picture was on the news. Her death touched so many of our little community, I couldn't believe something had happened so close to home. Instantly I burst into tears. I couldn't understand how God could think to take someone so full of beauty and life and potential from the Earth. I got mad and struggled with the grieving process. I had another dear friend who had taught us both piano that I called that night, and she was beside herself. We had always been her "children" and now one was gone.
A few days passed and I went to visit the parents of my lost friend.
I couldn't hold it in, we embraced and cried. I couldn't believe how well her mum was keeping it together. People kept coming in with flowers and cakes and food and anything else you could imagine. We all swapped stories about how beautiful she was, and my own mother said something that put a bit of sense into the situation: "maybe she was needed back up there with the other angels. Maybe she had done all she needed to do here".
Maybe mum was right. Either way, it gave me a little bit of hope.
Not long after, I attended G's funeral. It was shattering, but beautiful all the same. G practiced budhism, and they of course believe in re-incarnation.
Well, to everybody's amazement, the most beautiful orange butterfly floated in and sat on G's coffin. It stayed with the procession for a long while, and everybody knew, she was there. More of us got a reason to believe she would never really be gone.
Two days after, I was back visiting my family. Father was yelling "quick, be quiet but come quick". A cat we had never seen before in the neighborhood was sitting on our front fence.
I knew immediately it was her.
I couldn't believe this was all happening. Something started to lift from my shoulders, some strange weight, and suddenly I felt as if I would be ok.
It's bizarre how the world works sometimes..
A little while had passed and a lot of things around me had begun to change. Things started getting more serious between the guy I was seeing and I, Mandy had sat me down and said she wanted me to write a poem for her wedding ceremony. The Grand Prix was coming up and I had finally shaken off all the bullshit caused by my ex. He still texts me to this day, but I can't seem to see that ever happening again, thank God. I started to realize how much I liked the guy I'm with when we spent an awesome day with friends at St Kilda Festival. It was a day of firsts, that being the first time I'd let myself like a guy properly since my last massive fuck around, the first time I'd had a real laugh, and the first time anyone had ever gotten me on an amusement ride that I would usually have cried, screamed and refuses to get on. (ok, I put on a scene but I conquered my fear).
I spent 4 glorious days at the Grand Prix, surrounded by old friends and plenty of drinks. It was the first time in a long time I was able to let myself go, be myself and not care what anyone thought. I also earned some nice tips.. It's amazing how many stupid drunk guys will give you money to have a picture with them!
On the first day of the GP, I'd been for a job interview. It wasn't my ideal job, but it paid well, the people seemed nice & I felt right at home as soon I'd walked in.
By the end of that day, I was supposed to find out whether or not I'd gotten the job.
I didn't feel overly positive, especially since the boss who had interviewed me said "I'll be honest, I've got my heart set on someone else, but Graham insisted I meet you".
I kept my phone in my hand pretty much all day.
Then I lost reception. Not long after it returned, my phone froze.
FML.
The guy had called a few times and by 7pm I'd finally gotten back to him.
I couldn't believe my ears when he offered me the job. I couldn't contain myself.
I burst into tears! It had been a long time coming.
The icing on the cake was the fact that he said "you exceeded all my expectations".
Nobody had had that kind of faith in me in the longest time. I felt a million bucks.
Nothing would bring me down.
I started working the following Tuesday, 7:30-5:30 everyday, I had no idea how I was going to survive the hours but I've slipped into them nicely. It came at perfect time, as my Housemate had left and I was in a hurry to sort out a new place to live. Moving was a complete pain in the ass but I was going to have to do it. I decided I would also move out of Bayside and closer to work. I had my sights set on Prahran.
Things seemed to be finally falling into place. But you know what they say...
When everything starts going right, something is bound to blow up in your face.
And that's exactly what it did on April 1st.
I thought it was some sort of sick joke. I couldn't stop crying. I rang my mother who was having a jolly old time in England. Another one of my friends gone. But this one just far too close for comfort. This one was like my little sister. Someone I'd just been out with two weeks before. Someone I should have seen the signs with. Someone who I knew was capable of taking her own life. And that's exactly what she did.
I couldn't believe this was the 3rd person in a space of 4 months that I'd lost.
What the FUCK was going on??
At that moment I felt as if everything had blown apart again.
How could I go back and work with the thoughts in my head?
Was I going to lose my job if I took time off?
I was terrified of everything going on in my life all of a sudden.
Someone or something had to save me, and fast.
It's been just over a month now since Em left. I am starting to feel normal again, but it's hard to think I won't ever see her again.
I can't bring myself to delete any of her texts from my phone. I feel as if that would be like deleting her. Sounds ridiculous, I know. But it's just the way it is.
I've moved to Prahran, now all I'm stressing about is my finances.
But I think I've finally done all the time and punishment in the world, and it's finally my turn to be happy, for good things to come, and for Collingwood to start climbing the ladder!!
So... There you have it... The Tucce is (back) out there... <3 xx
Monday, 7 May 2012
Thursday, 12 January 2012
Profanities, Predicaments & Princesses
Fuck fuck shit fuck fuck.
Yep.. That was pretty much the reaction my mind had to the fact that my mother had just discovered my Collingwood tattoo. You see, my adoptive mother is a bit old fashioned, and thinks things like tattoos and piercings are some sort of "low life" statement.
It was by accident she found out about my La Dolce Vita tattoo.. My own fault after going a year without her knowing. And her reaction, though at first a bit unnerving, wasn't as bad as I imagined. When I explained to her that the tattoo means "the good life" in Italian (half of my heritage, how's that for patriotism?) and that I wouldn't have "the good life" if her and my father hadn't adopted me, she seemed to calm down. We just agreed never to speak of it again, and to never tell my father.
But the Collingwood tattoo was a bit different. Not only had I promised her I wouldn't get another tattoo (yeah right), I knew she wouldn't feel as sentimental about a football tattoo as I did. Plus, she follows North Melbourne. I assumed my cousin had opened his big mouth about my tattoo when my mother pulled the side of my dress open after we'd all been out for a birthday lunch. Immediately covering my side up, she didn't see what was written, but she did roll her eyes at me. I started to stress and it ticked over and over in my mind that my cousin must have let it slip. Mother dearest didn't say anything else about it, but I couldn't gauge if this was a good or bad thing. After I left, I text my cousin to grill him about it, and he "swears on his life" that he didn't say anything... Though he did confess that his mother and my mother had discussed it when I was gone.
I received a text off mother dear not long after, thanking me for coming. She made no mention of the tattoo. I decided to be the bigger person and respond with an apology about the tattoo, but it's there, on my body, she doesn't have to look at it, and it means something to me.
She replied with "I'm not going to talk about that because you know I don't like them".
Phew. Disaster averted. It was still bugging me how she knew about it though.
I didn't sleep much that night, and I had to attend a funeral of a suicide victim the next day. I can't tell you the insane amount of profanities that flew through my head during the night over the fact that if my mum knew, could my father know too?? Fuck fuck shit fuck fuck.
After the funeral, I felt like visiting my parents for some good old fashioned "mum will cheer me up". When I got there, everything was normal. Father wasn't home and mum soon lowered her amount of chirp when I reminded her I'd just been at a very sad funeral. We sat down with tea and biscuits and got on to the topic of the tattoo. I was so curious to know how she had found out, so I asked her straight out how she had discovered my little secret.
"The dress you were wearing yesterday". Of course!!!!! I was wearing a backless number, and she had stood behind me for a photograph. Apparently when I leant forward, the dress shifted and part of the tattoo hung out. She still didn't know whst was written there.
I let her stew over what I had tattooed on my side, and she made the most awful guesses. She said she took comfort knowing that it was only small, and not visible all the time, and I reminded her that "at least I don't have big, visible, coloured ones like my brother". It always seems to make things better when you compare to a sibling who has worse than you do.
When I finally had enough of her heinous guesses, I proudly announced what it said. Do you know what she did?
She laughed.
Bless her cotton socks.
A major case of "I'm a Princess, do as I say" happened to me a few days ago. The princess being my best friend. Very suddenly, has excluded me from her bridal party, after already asking me to be a bridesmaid last year. I even went and tried on the dress with her, put it on hold at Chadstone and was about to go and pick it up when she dropped the bomb on me VIA TEXT MESSAGE. I asked her reason why she just decided to drop me from the wedding like that, and her response (again via text) was "I just feel you haven't been helpful enough".
By this stage, my blood had started to boil. Not helpful enough????????
I cannot tell you the countless times during not only her engagement, but our entire 9 year friendship that I have had hundreds of my calls and texts unanswered by her. How the hell sm I expected to help someone who won't answer their phone? I was almost at the point of sending a carrier pidgeon when during a space of 4 weeks, 6 phone calls and 4 texts went unanswered.
Time and time again I have tried to be there for her and be "helpful", I have even tried to keep her on the straight and narrow about being faithful to her soon-to-be husband, and never once judged her by some of the shitty ways she has behaved when we are out sans husband. It really grinds my gears when someone close to you uses throwaway excuses to get what they want. It baffles me that she could even think I haven't been there for her, when she's the one who's been avoiding me.
So the text war continued, and I managed to catch her out on screening calls and messages due to the fact she had repeatedly told me how "Donna has been calling me everyday with wedding stuff". Well, if Donna has been calling you, it means you've been answering, right? She didn't like that one bit. I managed to call a close friend in Perth and tell her of my Barney Rubble with Mandy. She assured me to stay calm, be the bigger person and still attend the wedding as a guest. I explained how disheartening it was to know that I'd have to sit in the pews and watch my best friend get married, rather than stand up there with her, knowing full well the other four bitches up there don't know anything about her the way I do, nor do they give two shits about her, they just want to be seen at a wedding. I settled by telling Mandy how upset I was but I would still be there for her, be at the wedding, but I would not be in attendance at the hen's night. I also pointed out how pathetic I thought it was that she had waited so long to tell me, and couldn't even pick up the phone let alone say this to my face.
This escalated the battle of the best friends, and in return, Mandy turned up the peer pressure by saying "if you don't come to the hen's night, don't bother coming to the wedding".
I highlighted to her the reasons why I wouldn't go to the hens, that being the fact that I was originally the one who was going to organise it, and originally a bridesmaid in the first place. Why would I want to hang out at a hens night when the only 3 people I'd know apart from the bride would be the two bridesmaids who have taken over, the one who hates my guts (my old boss circa 2005) and the one who was taking my place????
Exactly, not my idea of a good time... And all for $180.... I think not.
Mandy finished the war by saying "If you don't come to the wedding, I hope you don't regret it and make a huge mistake".
A few days went by, and nothing further was texted between us. The weekend came around and I had stayed in on a Saturday night to have my little neice for a sleepover. I was still wide awake at 2am, after having her kick me in the back and dribble baby talk in her sleep.
My phone lit up all of a sudden and there was a message from Mandy:
" :( "
That's all it said. One sad face at 2am.
I didn't bother responding, but I laid there awake thinking she was either drunk and has realised how shallow her friends are, or she genuinely is upset about something. Maybe she broke a nail. Who knows.
I woke up the next day not remembering about her message. It got to 3pm and I remembered the sad face, and decided to reply.
"What's wrong??"
She responded at 7:30, saying there was a lot of crap happening and that she was "sad we were arguing". As nice as it all sounded, I wasn't sure she was being genuine. I put my negativity aside and told her I was sad too, but I'd always be there for her. I know I shouldn't be after this shoddy treatement and 9 years of friendship, but it was the 9 year part that got to me.
She wrote back and asked if I was coming to the wedding, and I told her I wouldn't miss it for the worl. She asked about the hens night but I didn't give her an answer. After all, I was being quite generous giving her the time of day for the wedding in the first place!
And there you have it, friends. Predicaments and Princesses, Profanities and plain old Parent behaviours. It's just a matter of getting to the bottom of it, and playing your cards right and everyone will be happy.
After all, you know that they say...
.............The Tucce is Out There <3
x0x
Yep.. That was pretty much the reaction my mind had to the fact that my mother had just discovered my Collingwood tattoo. You see, my adoptive mother is a bit old fashioned, and thinks things like tattoos and piercings are some sort of "low life" statement.
It was by accident she found out about my La Dolce Vita tattoo.. My own fault after going a year without her knowing. And her reaction, though at first a bit unnerving, wasn't as bad as I imagined. When I explained to her that the tattoo means "the good life" in Italian (half of my heritage, how's that for patriotism?) and that I wouldn't have "the good life" if her and my father hadn't adopted me, she seemed to calm down. We just agreed never to speak of it again, and to never tell my father.
But the Collingwood tattoo was a bit different. Not only had I promised her I wouldn't get another tattoo (yeah right), I knew she wouldn't feel as sentimental about a football tattoo as I did. Plus, she follows North Melbourne. I assumed my cousin had opened his big mouth about my tattoo when my mother pulled the side of my dress open after we'd all been out for a birthday lunch. Immediately covering my side up, she didn't see what was written, but she did roll her eyes at me. I started to stress and it ticked over and over in my mind that my cousin must have let it slip. Mother dearest didn't say anything else about it, but I couldn't gauge if this was a good or bad thing. After I left, I text my cousin to grill him about it, and he "swears on his life" that he didn't say anything... Though he did confess that his mother and my mother had discussed it when I was gone.
I received a text off mother dear not long after, thanking me for coming. She made no mention of the tattoo. I decided to be the bigger person and respond with an apology about the tattoo, but it's there, on my body, she doesn't have to look at it, and it means something to me.
She replied with "I'm not going to talk about that because you know I don't like them".
Phew. Disaster averted. It was still bugging me how she knew about it though.
I didn't sleep much that night, and I had to attend a funeral of a suicide victim the next day. I can't tell you the insane amount of profanities that flew through my head during the night over the fact that if my mum knew, could my father know too?? Fuck fuck shit fuck fuck.
After the funeral, I felt like visiting my parents for some good old fashioned "mum will cheer me up". When I got there, everything was normal. Father wasn't home and mum soon lowered her amount of chirp when I reminded her I'd just been at a very sad funeral. We sat down with tea and biscuits and got on to the topic of the tattoo. I was so curious to know how she had found out, so I asked her straight out how she had discovered my little secret.
"The dress you were wearing yesterday". Of course!!!!! I was wearing a backless number, and she had stood behind me for a photograph. Apparently when I leant forward, the dress shifted and part of the tattoo hung out. She still didn't know whst was written there.
I let her stew over what I had tattooed on my side, and she made the most awful guesses. She said she took comfort knowing that it was only small, and not visible all the time, and I reminded her that "at least I don't have big, visible, coloured ones like my brother". It always seems to make things better when you compare to a sibling who has worse than you do.
When I finally had enough of her heinous guesses, I proudly announced what it said. Do you know what she did?
She laughed.
Bless her cotton socks.
A major case of "I'm a Princess, do as I say" happened to me a few days ago. The princess being my best friend. Very suddenly, has excluded me from her bridal party, after already asking me to be a bridesmaid last year. I even went and tried on the dress with her, put it on hold at Chadstone and was about to go and pick it up when she dropped the bomb on me VIA TEXT MESSAGE. I asked her reason why she just decided to drop me from the wedding like that, and her response (again via text) was "I just feel you haven't been helpful enough".
By this stage, my blood had started to boil. Not helpful enough????????
I cannot tell you the countless times during not only her engagement, but our entire 9 year friendship that I have had hundreds of my calls and texts unanswered by her. How the hell sm I expected to help someone who won't answer their phone? I was almost at the point of sending a carrier pidgeon when during a space of 4 weeks, 6 phone calls and 4 texts went unanswered.
Time and time again I have tried to be there for her and be "helpful", I have even tried to keep her on the straight and narrow about being faithful to her soon-to-be husband, and never once judged her by some of the shitty ways she has behaved when we are out sans husband. It really grinds my gears when someone close to you uses throwaway excuses to get what they want. It baffles me that she could even think I haven't been there for her, when she's the one who's been avoiding me.
So the text war continued, and I managed to catch her out on screening calls and messages due to the fact she had repeatedly told me how "Donna has been calling me everyday with wedding stuff". Well, if Donna has been calling you, it means you've been answering, right? She didn't like that one bit. I managed to call a close friend in Perth and tell her of my Barney Rubble with Mandy. She assured me to stay calm, be the bigger person and still attend the wedding as a guest. I explained how disheartening it was to know that I'd have to sit in the pews and watch my best friend get married, rather than stand up there with her, knowing full well the other four bitches up there don't know anything about her the way I do, nor do they give two shits about her, they just want to be seen at a wedding. I settled by telling Mandy how upset I was but I would still be there for her, be at the wedding, but I would not be in attendance at the hen's night. I also pointed out how pathetic I thought it was that she had waited so long to tell me, and couldn't even pick up the phone let alone say this to my face.
This escalated the battle of the best friends, and in return, Mandy turned up the peer pressure by saying "if you don't come to the hen's night, don't bother coming to the wedding".
I highlighted to her the reasons why I wouldn't go to the hens, that being the fact that I was originally the one who was going to organise it, and originally a bridesmaid in the first place. Why would I want to hang out at a hens night when the only 3 people I'd know apart from the bride would be the two bridesmaids who have taken over, the one who hates my guts (my old boss circa 2005) and the one who was taking my place????
Exactly, not my idea of a good time... And all for $180.... I think not.
Mandy finished the war by saying "If you don't come to the wedding, I hope you don't regret it and make a huge mistake".
A few days went by, and nothing further was texted between us. The weekend came around and I had stayed in on a Saturday night to have my little neice for a sleepover. I was still wide awake at 2am, after having her kick me in the back and dribble baby talk in her sleep.
My phone lit up all of a sudden and there was a message from Mandy:
" :( "
That's all it said. One sad face at 2am.
I didn't bother responding, but I laid there awake thinking she was either drunk and has realised how shallow her friends are, or she genuinely is upset about something. Maybe she broke a nail. Who knows.
I woke up the next day not remembering about her message. It got to 3pm and I remembered the sad face, and decided to reply.
"What's wrong??"
She responded at 7:30, saying there was a lot of crap happening and that she was "sad we were arguing". As nice as it all sounded, I wasn't sure she was being genuine. I put my negativity aside and told her I was sad too, but I'd always be there for her. I know I shouldn't be after this shoddy treatement and 9 years of friendship, but it was the 9 year part that got to me.
She wrote back and asked if I was coming to the wedding, and I told her I wouldn't miss it for the worl. She asked about the hens night but I didn't give her an answer. After all, I was being quite generous giving her the time of day for the wedding in the first place!
And there you have it, friends. Predicaments and Princesses, Profanities and plain old Parent behaviours. It's just a matter of getting to the bottom of it, and playing your cards right and everyone will be happy.
After all, you know that they say...
.............The Tucce is Out There <3
x0x
Sunday, 1 January 2012
... Tucce On Fire ...
I'll keep this quick, it's 40 freaking degrees today and this computer is radiating heat like David Beckham's abs..
Keeping in tune with my new years' resolutions, I have done a fair bit of exercise today. The best way to do this was running across the burning hot bricks to get to the pool... does that count?
OK, maybe not. But I swear I'll do some butt-buster exercises when I go back to my place.. besides, my housemate is due home from QLD and I haven't vacuumed yet. That'll do, in this heat .... yes?
So, my thoughts while I was soaking in the pool today...:
It's finally January! Which means February is just around the corner, and that means..... AFL IS BACK!
Sure, sure, it's only pre-season Cup but WHO CARES!? IT'S FOOTY!!!!! I cannot WAIT. I have been hanging for it since it finished in October last year. I can't tell you how much it means to me to have football back. If you cut me open, I would bleed my team colours. Much to everyone's dismay (although, not my dad's... we follow the same team), I am obsessed and will probably fill you up with loads of footy blogs over the next 12 months.
Honestly, I have to cut this short. The Tucce Is On Fire!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There's a hot man waiting for me in bed.
And by hot man, I mean... temperature wise.
So I leave you with this.... in case you were all wondering:
CARN THE PIES... and remember...
.... The Tucce Is Out There <3
x0x
Keeping in tune with my new years' resolutions, I have done a fair bit of exercise today. The best way to do this was running across the burning hot bricks to get to the pool... does that count?
OK, maybe not. But I swear I'll do some butt-buster exercises when I go back to my place.. besides, my housemate is due home from QLD and I haven't vacuumed yet. That'll do, in this heat .... yes?
So, my thoughts while I was soaking in the pool today...:
It's finally January! Which means February is just around the corner, and that means..... AFL IS BACK!
Sure, sure, it's only pre-season Cup but WHO CARES!? IT'S FOOTY!!!!! I cannot WAIT. I have been hanging for it since it finished in October last year. I can't tell you how much it means to me to have football back. If you cut me open, I would bleed my team colours. Much to everyone's dismay (although, not my dad's... we follow the same team), I am obsessed and will probably fill you up with loads of footy blogs over the next 12 months.
Honestly, I have to cut this short. The Tucce Is On Fire!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There's a hot man waiting for me in bed.
And by hot man, I mean... temperature wise.
So I leave you with this.... in case you were all wondering:
CARN THE PIES... and remember...
.... The Tucce Is Out There <3
x0x
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